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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27522070">No One Told Me I Was Going To Find You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseharpies/pseuds/roseharpies'>roseharpies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Not Beta Read, Soulmate-Identifying Marks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 05:33:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,831</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27522070</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseharpies/pseuds/roseharpies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dmitry wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had wanted a little romance out of it. He thought that meeting his soulmate would be somewhere a little more special than this. He supposed that was his luck.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri | Dmitry/Anya | Anastasia Romanov (Anastasia 1997 &amp; Broadway)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No One Told Me I Was Going To Find You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first time writing in awhile, and it's also my first time writing these characters. Hopefully I did alright.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Maybe I am!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dmitry knew he was cursed with bad luck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both his parents had died before he was 16, he spent the remainder of his youth in a group home, he couldn’t seem to keep hold of a job to save his life, and his only friend was a middle aged criminal. It was just the cherry on top that he was also cursed with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>vague </span>
  </em>
  <span>soulmark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On his eighteenth birthday, Dmitry woke up to find the words “Maybe I am!” printed on his arm. He supposed it could’ve been worse, because at least it was more than one word. But it was vague, and no one wanted a vague soulmark. There were practically infinite things that could prompt that response. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were several instances in Dmitry’s life where he would ask someone a question, and they would respond with, “Maybe I am.” It made his stomach lurch every time. But so far, no luck. Dmitry was twenty-nine now, and he still hadn’t found his soulmate. Typical. He expected that with his luck, he’d find them at the age of eighty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vlad, his best and only friend, had been born without a soulmark. Lucky bastard. Some would consider it horrible luck to never get your soulmark, but Dmitry sometimes longed for that life. Vlad never had to worry about soulmates. He didn’t have to stand by waiting for someone to show up, he could go after whoever he wanted. And Vlad did. His current fling was with a married woman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dmitry tried not to let his lack of a soulmate get in the way of his life too much. He dated. He had his own flings. But there was a part of him that felt stalled. He knew he could never really commit to someone, really fall for someone, while the possibility of his soulmate was still around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He and serious commitment had never gotten along. When he went to university, he bounced around from major to major before giving up altogether. And then he bounced around from dead-end job to dead-end job. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His current job was as a bartender in what might have been the most run down bar in all of St. Petersburg. Only half of the bar taps were functional, and last month someone had stolen the door off of the men’s restroom. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The door</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Who steals a door?  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was working a late shift on a Saturday night, going through the motions, when the front door opened and a group of girls walked in. He wasn’t sure what drew his attention to her, but he stared for a few moments before he caught himself. She was too clean cut looking to really fit with the crowd at this bar, with her nice clothes and the way she looked a little out of her element. He recognized the three friends she was with as regulars at the bar, but this must’ve been her first time. At least, it was the first time he was seeing her. He certainly would’ve remembered seeing her before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was pretty. Really pretty. The kind of pretty that was exactly Dmitry’s type. She had long, wild, strawberry blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a sharp jawline. She was short, but still managed to look intimidating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One vodka soda, one beer,” said a man who had appeared suddenly at the bar. Dmitry shook head, forcing himself to stop looking at this girl. He quickly made himself busy with the order. It was just an attractive woman, he’s seen attractive women before, there was no reason to get all distracted by this one. Not when he worked in a bar where he couldn’t afford to let customers get impatient, lest they pull a knife out. Really, it had happened before to one of his coworkers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man left with his drinks, and Dmitry froze for a moment at seeing that this girl and one of her friends were now at the bar. He recognized her friend, she came here all the time. Marfa, he thought her name was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One gin and tonic, two whiskey sours, and…” Marfa trailed off, looking at her companion to finish the order.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A pina colada?” The girl said, sounding unsure. Dmitry wondered if she had ever been in any kind of a bar before. She looked a little excited, like being here was a new adventure for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coming right up,” Dmitry replied. “So, you like pina coladas? Do you also like getting caught in the rain?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid joke, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought to himself, regretting it immediately.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl tilted her head at him, confused. Even when she was looking at him like he was a moron, she was still beautiful. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dammit, Dmitry. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“No?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dmitry finished the first drink, sliding it in front of the two women. “Ah, sorry. It’s a song. That was a bad joke.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Flirting was not one of Dmitry’s strong suits. It was something Vlad always teased him about when they went out together. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re lucky you’re tall,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Vlad would always say. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finished the second drink, and placed that one alongside the first. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” he said, not knowing why he was still trying to make small talk with her. She definitely already thought he was weird. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s my first time. I just moved to St. Petersburg last month,” she said. She spoke in a friendly tone, not a confused or weirded out one, so that was a start. Dmitry decided that he liked the sound of her voice. It was warm and welcoming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What brings you to Petersburg?” He asked, glad they found some kind of topic. He felt that if he could just hold her attention for a minute, he would be happy. He caught Marfa’s eye, who still looked amused by what she was witnessing. She winked at him before grabbing the two finished drinks and heading back to rejoin her friends’ table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Work,” she said, paying no attention to her friend’s absence. “I got a job at the museum by Palace Square.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>A museum? </span>
  </em>
  <span>She was definitely too smart to be interested in him, then. Yet she was smiling up at him. She had a beautiful smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A man had gotten in line behind the girl, making Dmitry quit his tragic attempt at flirting. He quickly finished the third drink and got started on the last one. He knew better than to let a line form. He really didn’t feel like getting stabbed tonight, especially not in front of the pretty girl who was already out of his league. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as he finished the last drink, he heard a yelp. He looked up to see the girl spinning around as the man who was just in line started backing away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You took my wallet!” She exclaimed , sounding more emotionally hurt than angry. The man turned and started running away, but the girl followed and tackled him before he could get out the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Someone from her table of friends yelled “Anya!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dmitry, without really thinking about it, hopped over the bar to try and help. The pickpocket was now wiggling around on the ground, trying his best to get back up, while the girl - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anya?</span>
  </em>
  <span> - smacked him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you crazy?” Dmitry asked. He was half impressed by her, half scared for her. “He could have a knife!” He wasn’t sure how to intervene. He’d never seen anyone tackle a thief before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I am!” The girl yelled. Dmitry froze. “Give! Me! Back! My! Wallet!” Every word punctuated with a punch aimed at this pickpocket on the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man threw the aforementioned wallet away from him, clearly just trying to escape from the girl’s fists. She finally relented to go chase after her wallet, and the man escaped through the front door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dmitry let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t get paid enough for this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” He asked with concern, turning to the girl. She was clutching her wallet to her chest like she was scared someone else would try to pilfer it, but she looked unharmed. She looked up at him and nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She grabbed the last two drinks and returned to her table as if jumping on criminals was a normal thing for her, and Dmitry tried not to overthink as he returned to his post behind the bar. Dmitry had heard those words a dozen times before. It didn’t mean anything. He started wiping down the bar, trying to distract himself from those thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later, a throat clearing sound pulled him away from his menial tasks. It was her. She was standing there, with her wallet gripped tightly in her hand where she could see it at all times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was so distracted, I didn’t even think. You,” the blonde said confidently, pointing at Dmitry. “What does your arm say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dmitry tried not to get his hopes up. There was no chance it was her. “Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your arm,” she repeated, waving around the hand that didn’t have her wallet in it. She elaborated, “Your soulmark. What does it say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I am,” answered Dmitry. If she really was his soulmate, if this was really how they met…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you crazy?” The girl said excitedly. She put her wallet down on the bar between them, and pulled up her sleeve to show him her arm. The words she had just spoken were written across her forearm in his handwriting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dmitry had to admit, he was a little disappointed. Not by her, of course. She was beautiful and clearly strong. The location and timing and context of their first meeting was what disappointed him. Dmitry wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had wanted a little romance out of it. He thought that meeting his soulmate would be somewhere a little more special than this. He supposed that was his luck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t look happy,” the girl said, squinting up at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shit, of course he’s making a bad impression. It’s just his soulmate, no big deal. “I’m sorry, it’s just- here, of all places. After someone tried to rob you. I was hoping we’d meet someplace nicer. That maybe the story would be…sweeter?” The girl nodded, understanding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So she kneeled on the barstool in front of her, leaned across the bar, and grabbed Dmitry’s shirt. He only had a moment to acknowledge what was happening before she kissed him. It was brief, and it was a little messy, but he fully understood what the big deal about soulmates was at that moment. He felt that kiss in his whole body. He felt complete. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pulled away from him, grinning. “Now you have something to say to distract from the fact that this happened in the dirtiest bar in all of Russia.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I…” He felt dizzy. “My name is Dmitry.” He awkwardly held his hand out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She laughed and shook his hand. “I’m Anya.” </span>
</p>
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